


a drop in the ocean

by writer



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, I Tried, i don't know what this is, ichiruki month 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 23:04:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3828244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writer/pseuds/writer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's the little things about rukia that draw him in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a drop in the ocean

**Author's Note:**

> written for [ichirukimonth](http://ichirukimonth.tumblr.com), prompt 1: rain. x-posted to ff.net. now unlocked as of jun 15 2015 for non-ao3 users by request. kudos is ❤︎

"This is your fault," Rukia says through chattering teeth. She's got her jacket wrapped tightly around herself, but it's no help since she's soaked to the bone. Her hair is wet, and loose wisps of hair that came out of her ponytail holder are sticking to her face.

"Don't be stupid," Ichigo snaps back, though he does feel bad. It is his fault, after all. He wanted to make a run down to the store to get groceries for Yuzu, and Rukia agreed to accompany him. On their way home, bags in hand, the sky had opened up and begun to pour. Ichigo makes a face and steps further under the awning they had hurriedly ducked under to get away from the rain when a fat droplet of water lands on the tip of his nose. Rukia crosses her arms, face unreadable as she tries valiantly to cover up her shiver. It's autumn, moving towards winter, and if Ichigo tries, he can see his breath.

He watches her chatter for a few more seconds before he reaches forward to tug at her wet jacket. She isn't paying attention to what he's doing, so he manages to get the jacket half off before she slaps his hand, hard, stepping back from his touch.

"Ow!" Ichigo yells, hand withdrawing immediately, face heating up. "What the fuck was that for?"

She flushes a bright, pretty pink, and her face contorts a little as she turns to him, mouth pursed. "Don't touch me!"

He says, frustratedly, "I'm trying to help you! Now stay still or you'll catch a cold!"

Rukia glares at him in narrow-eyed suspicion, but slowly lets him back into her personal space in order to tug her jacket off. He averts his eyes from the way her T-shirt clings to her body, desperately trying not to think about the heat swirling in his lower belly at the sight, the way his mouth dries when his right hand accidentally brushes against her chest. He could probably evaporate the rain outside with the heat in his cheeks right now. He hurriedly tugs the whole jacket off as fast as he can, and neither of them can look each other in the eye as Ichigo shucks off his own coat off. It's slightly damp, but it's in better shape than Rukia's since he had gotten under the awning before the rain had really started to come down; Rukia had been too busy admiring the sky and dancing in the light drizzle to realize the consequences of her actions. He slings it roughly but carefully around her slim frame, smoothing it over her shoulders and reaching to zip it gruffly up for her.

"I don't need-" Rukia starts, then stops at Ichigo's look. "Thanks," she says lowly instead, a blush still staining her cheeks.

Ichigo stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks down at the ground. "It's nothing." He scowls at his shoes, embarrassed. Rukia laughs at him, light and playful, and Ichigo finds his own mouth curling up involuntarily at the happy sound.

"The rain is letting up now," she observes once she's stopped laughing. She steps out from under the awning, palms up to search for stray drops of rain still falling from the sky. He stares at her silhouette, the small figure swallowed in his jacket. She's beautiful, he thinks, and he can't take his eyes off of her. She twirls, head tilted back, eyes reflecting the sky as she spreads her arms in an uncharacteristic display of childish freedom. Ichigo moves forward, too, hand reaching out to grasp the edge of his coat that's dancing just out of reach, before he stops suddenly, withdrawing his hand like lightning when she stops and glances at him curiously.

"Ichigo, aren't you coming? We should get home. The rain has stopped." He likes the way the word home rolls off her lips, because it's true: it's her home as much as it's his. It's theirs. She's looking back at him over her shoulder, a soft smile on her face, wide violet eyes half-lidded with something tender in their depths.

Ichigo meets her soft gaze, then tilts his head up to the sky, a smile spreading across his lips.

"Yeah."


End file.
